


Sharing Smoke

by pipdadiddlydoo



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 08:14:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipdadiddlydoo/pseuds/pipdadiddlydoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lame and short drabble-y thing....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> I realized I posted this just in time for valentine's day...look at that.
> 
> This probably takes place pre-homework/homework era!

Thomas's sweater smells of cigarettes.

Actually, the whole room smells of cigarettes, Thomas realizes as he takes a long drag, exhaling in a puff of smoke. He passes the cigarette towards Guy-man, who is sitting next to him and fully engrossed in the small computer screen that shines too brightly in the smoky, dimly-lit room. 

Guy-man leans forwards to suck in smoke through the end of the cigarette still between Thomas's fingers, breathing out hotly across Thomas's palm. His hands don't move from the keyboard. "Lazy," Thomas chastises the other man, leaning back and placing the cigarette to his own lips. He watches the tip glow as he breathes in, and lets smoke gently curl from his lips. 

"I'm not lazy. You are," responds Guy in a half mumble, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes, watery and dark from staring at the glow of the bright screen, and brush a strand of his longer hair behind his ear. "Did you forget who's been doing all the work here for the past oh, three hours?"

Thomas chuckles in response, blowing smoke from his nostrils towards Guy-Man, which earns him a swat on the arm before Guy-man's hand returns to the keyboard, tapping away. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he returns to the drafting, editing, programming; whatever he's been dealing with these past hours since Guy-man is the one who owns the computer in the first place. Thomas shifts in his own desk chair propped up next to his roommate's, quietly smoking and occasionally glancing at the screen. Guy-man does a good job of ignoring Thomas as he finishes another cigarette and teases the shorter man by blowing the smoke at him, resting his curly-haired head on his shoulder, and clicking on the mouse when he's not using it. Not enough to make Guy-Man upset necessarily, but enough to remind him that Thomas is there and able to annoy him. Only when Thomas is halfway through his next cigarette does he bother to check the pack. "Last cigarette," he reports to Guy-man, who huffs in exasperation next to him and swivels to face Thomas with a few final clicks at the keyboard.

"I bought that pack," he reminds Thomas, rubbing at his eyes with a hand again as his hair falls over part of his face. "With my money. You're an asshole."

Thomas shrugs in response, glancing at the almost-butt of the cigarette in his hand. "You weren't smoking them, and I was bored. Sorry."

Before Thomas can take the final drag of smoke, Guy-man grabs the wrist of the hand the cigarette is in. "I would've been smoking if someone else hadn't been powering through the whole pack," he sighs. "Don't be a dick, share the last of it with me."

Thomas starts at the feeling of Guy's fingers tightening around his wrist, cautiously responding. "Like... a smoke kiss? Really?"

"Whatever," Guy-man retorts, eyes flicking to the cigarette in Thomas' hand. "Just before it turns to ash."

"Alright," Thomas half-mumbles in response, taking the final drag of the cigarette. He keeps the smoke in his mouth as he simultaneously leans over towards Guy-man's mouth and mushes the butt into a makeshift ashtray he's been making of a bowl that sits on the desk by the computer. He can feel Guy-man's nose bump against the side of his as they lean together. Thomas breathes out slowly, opening his lips in an "o" shape, watching as Guy-man mimics the shape with his own mouth and leans closer as the smoke flows in the air between them. The top of their lips bump in something that is not quite a kiss but not quite a complete accident as Guy-Man breathes in the last of the smoke before quickly moving back. Thomas leans back much slower as he exhales, blinking. 

Guy-man seems to quickly compose himself as he lets out a little huff of smoky air and settles back into his chair in front of his keyboard. "I think you owe me money for that pack," he complains.

"Yes, alright," the curly-haired man repeats, a small smile on his face as he leans towards his best friend and roommate, resting his chin on Guy-man's shoulder. The room is smoky and the room as dark as the early hours of the night outside, and the light of the screen casts a faint blue-ish light on them both.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't smoke, kids, or you'll turn GAY


End file.
